The Witch and the Assassin
by Peanutbuttertoast1
Summary: Hermione and Julian Sark have an unexpected encounter that leaves a lasting impression on both of them, but is there a chance for something more?
1. Chapter 1

_**Characters aren't mine and belong to JK Rowling and JJ Abrams...**_

Julian Sark was a master of _many_ things...killing, torture, lying, cheating, stealing, languages, sex...many, many things. He enjoyed them all, some more than others...and he was highly proficient in most things, could read people and see patterns that others missed. He never found life to be mundane, as there was always something new and interesting to be discovered. He toyed with people and their emotions...it was easy, because he never got emotionally involved with anyone or anything. Every person he met was a means to an end...blackmail, sex, death...it was different sides of the same coin and he relished in the power it gave him...

Irina had taught him from an early age to always hold your secrets close to the vest and never give anyone power over you. It was a form of weakness and if there was one thing Julian abhorred, it was weakness. In all his twenty-four years, he had never showed weakness to another living soul. Not when he was being beaten in the boys home he was left in after his mother died. Not when Irina took him in and had Khasinau train him to be a soldier, and then an assassin. Julian was the perfect picture of calm, cool, collectedness and he never faltered...it just wasn't in his nature to do so.

Sitting outside a small cafe in London, Julian was always amazed at how regular people lived their lives...they would wake up, get ready to go to work at some meaningless job that payed a mere pittance, and then return home to a spouse, 2.5 children and a picked fence...bills and obligations galore...it really seemed sad and pathetic to him and he couldn't imagine ever wanting that for himself. His life was so much simpler...no attachment, companionship for the night if he desired it, but nothing beyond that.

Irina had a job for him here in London...he was supposed to attend a gala that evening at Lord Chesterley's home, a charity auction to fund something of unimportance as far as he was concerned. But there was a contact he was supposed to make and an item to procure. Taking the final sip of his imported tea, Julian Sark got up and placed a twenty pound note on the table, and left to get ready for the evening.

When he arrived later at the Manor home owned by Lord Chesterley, he was dressed in his finest black tie tuxedo and tails. These pompous aristocrats always had to dress to the nines for these occasions. Sark inwardly rolled his eyes...if any of these tossers knew whom he really was...heir to the Romanov fortune, descended of the great Czars of Russia, they'd be fawning all over him. The thought made him shudder in repulsion.

Entering the main foyer, he was greeted by his host, who was a short, pompous man with too little hair and too much gut...his oily eyes surveying each person as they entered his home. Julian walked over and bowed formally to the man, despite his disdain for the git, it was no excuse for bad manners.

"Ah Lord Chesterley...thank you for inviting me here this evening."

"Andrew Mason...it is good to see you again. I hope the exporting business isn't keeping you too busy?"

"No, not at all. I've been traveling abroad quite a bit these days. One can never be too careful about insuring one's assets."

"Yes, yes...I heartily agree. Please enjoy yourself this evening."

Sark nodded and walked away, determined to avoid any further contact with his host. As he walked through the Manor, and greeted a few guests his eyes were constantly on the move...looking for any signs of threats, danger or enemies. Noticing his contact, by the red lapel pin shaped in a bird, Sark sauntered over and engaged in conversation about the painting the man was viewing. Once the protocols were properly exchanged and the information handed over covertly, Sark was about to leave when a stunning woman with long curly brown hair and a figure to die for was walking over by the far side of the room and talking to another gentleman with dark hair, green eyes and glasses. They seemed to be quite familiar with each other, but not in a romantic sense. The woman turned and Sark's breath hitched...delicate features, wide amber eyes and a perfectly shaped pink bow mouth captivated him momentarily. Goosebumps formed on his arms as he could've sworn he felt an aura unlike anything he'd ever felt before, radiating from the woman. She looked to be about his age, maybe a year younger...but it was the look in her eyes that captivated him. Her eyes were hardened and haunted...battle hardened as if she'd seen war and haunted by what she'd found there. Her movements were sharp, yet refined...she was a walking paradox...a predator wrapped in a beautiful package.

As the woman's eyes surveyed the room, they stopped briefly on him and dismissed him as unimportant. Well, fuck! That had never happened to him before. Women usually threw themselves at his feet, eager and willing to service him in whatever way he wished. But this woman, this siren...she'd looked at him and found him wanting...it was a bit disconcerting.

Trying not to think on it too much, Sark decided to walk around a bit more, before leaving when there was a sudden commotion coming from another part of the Manor. Before he could gather his wits, he noticed the green-eyed man and woman make for the place the sounds were coming from. There seemed to be some kind of smoke coming from the back of the Manor, so Sark headed that way. When he got there...there was some kind of security redirecting the guests to another part of the Manor. Undeterred, Sark made to move around one of the guards, when a hand gripped his shoulder. Turning around, he found himself staring into the same amber eyes he had been captivated by earlier.

"I believe we were told to head back inside." The sultry voice of the woman pointed out to him.

"We were, but I wanted to see if anyone needed help." Sark stated the lie convincingly, or so he thought. The woman just gave him a dubious look and then smirked at him...fucking smirked at him like she knew he was lying.

"I think the security detail has everything well in hand. You really should return to the party."

Sark again felt that aura of power but managed to give the woman a challenging smirk right back. "Perhaps, you're right...might I escort you back into the party, Miss?" Sark held out his arm, while the woman just stared at him in amusement.

"That's quite all right, Mr. Mason? Isn't it?" The look she was giving him, had the hairs of the back of his neck standing to attention. It was as if she knew that his real name wasn't Mason...who the fuck was this woman? "My escort should be returning shortly."

Sark loved a challenge and this woman was piquing his curiosity... "Well, far be it for me to leave a lady unattended. I'm more than happy to wait until your escort arrives."

He could see a flash of annoyance behind her gaze, but she masked it quickly and placed a bland smile on her face. "That's really not necessary, Mr. Mason, but kind of you nonetheless. I'm sure you have somewhere else you need to be?"

Challenge dropped and accepted. "No, at the moment you have my undivided attention...Miss...?"

"Wilkins..." the beautiful woman didn't hesitate in offering her name. Either it was her true name, or she was really very good at obfuscation. "Lucky me..." she murmured, which caused Julian's smirk to widen in response. He was just about to say something particularly witty, when the green-eyed man returned, looking a bit worse for wear.

"Everything alright, love?" Miss Wilkins smiled at the new arrival, who just smiled back and nodded.

"Everything's good. You ready to leave?"

The young woman nodded, almost in relief. Before she could leave however, Sark extended his hand towards the other gentleman. "Andrew Mason, I hope you don't mind but I was keeping your companion company. I do hope that everyone is alright...it seemed like a rather loud commotion."

The green-eyed man stared at him for a moment, and Sark had that feeling again...that aura of power, only this time it was much stronger...much, much stronger.

"Thank you for attending to my friend, Mr. Mason...but we really need to be going, don't we darling?"

"Of course." The amber-eyed goddess smiled widely at the other man. "Thank you for attending to me Mr. Mason and enjoy the rest of your evening."

"The pleasure was all mine, I assure you." Julian smirked, and watched as the woman's eyes darkened momentarily before they cleared. He watched, as the green-eyed man escorted Miss Wilkins from the back of the Manor into the main area. They were joined by two other men, one with red hair and freckles and another dark-skinned man. Together the four walked out of the entrance...

Sark discreetly followed them outside, watching as a Limousine picked them up and ferreted them away. Walking back into the Manor, Julian went back to the place where he was sure the commotion had been, but nothing seemed out of place. In fact, it didn't look like any disturbance had been there at all. It all seemed highly suspicious...and if Julian had learned anything from his years as a world class assassin...it was to always trust your instincts and his instincts were screaming at him that something was different about Miss Wilkins and her date. They both radiated a power that he'd never felt before. It was tangible...almost like electricity running across his skin...and he wondered just how the hell that was possible...

Julian left quickly after that, getting the information Irina required to her quickly and then settling in for the night. Irina had no other jobs for him for the next few weeks, so Sark decided to stay in London for a bit. Making a quick call to a trusted associate, Julian asked the man to get any background information her could find on a Miss Wilkins...approximate age 23. Five foot six, long brown curly hair, amber eyes...telling his contact it wasn't much, Julian was nonetheless convinced he'd have something substantial in a few days.

When a few days turned into a week-and-a-half and his contact still had no information on anyone with that name that matched that description, that little voice in the back of Julian's head whispered the truth of what he'd subconsciously known that night...Wilkins wasn't her real name. He'd never gotten the name of the green-eyed man either, so Julian was left at square one.

Walking around London had always been one of his favorite things to do, and today was no exception. It had been nearly two weeks since the gala, and Sark's thoughts hadn't strayed from the images his mind kept conjuring of the beautiful woman he'd met there. Amber eyes haunted his waking thoughts and invaded his dreams at night. It hadn't become an obsession at this point, but Julian was beginning to wonder if his thoughts weren't headed in that direction.

Walking into a little known bookstore, Julian perused the shelves looking for something to occupy his mind for the evening when he heard a voice coming from the back of the shop...it wasn't just any voice however, but _her_ voice. He'd bet his substantial inheritance on it...so he slowly walked into the back of the shop...and there stood the object of his near obsession, dressed casually in tight black jeans and a soft pink buttoned up blouse with heeled black boots and a grey pea coat hanging off her arm. Underneath the coat, Sark could make out a small beaded bag, clutched in her hand.

Clearing his throat, he smirked when Miss Wilkins looked up and her eyes widened comically at seeing him standing before her. She shut her book and smiled awkwardly as he moved forward and bowed politely. "Miss Wilkins...isn't it?" Sark said her faux name with just the right amount of inflection, but to her credit she didn't flinch, she only smirked and nodded politely, before returning the volley. "Ah, Mr. Mason...wasn't it?"

Sark smiled genuinely and nodded once. "I believe I was never privy to your given name at the party..."

"No you weren't." Amber eyes watched him with amusement, giving nothing away.

Sark chuckled and smiled widely. "Well, perhaps we might start over?" Extending his hand, Sark stated softly, "Andrew Mason, at your service."

The amused chuckle from the woman across from him, sent shivers down his back. Extending her own hand, she shook his firmly. "Mia Wilkins."

Sark's eyebrow rose mockingly, but the woman, Mia...just shook her head at him in return. Deciding to take a chance, and see where it went, Julian stepped a bit closer and stated lowly, "If your name is Mia Wilkins, then my name is Andrew Mason." The words came out sarcastically, and again, to her credit...Mia didn't flinch...she just gave him a contemplative look.

"Are we playing some sort of _game_ here, Mr. Mason?"

"Would you like it to be?" Sark challenged roughly, causing Mia to shiver noticeably at the tone of his voice.

"I'm not sure...Mr. Sark...I don't think you could handle any of the games I might send your way."

The woman's voice had gone cold, but it was nothing compared to the shocked look on Julian's face. How the fuck did she know who he was?

Moving in closer, Sark tried to intimidate, but this woman only smirked wider at him...as if she wasn't scared of him at all. "It would seem you have me at an unfair disadvantage Miss Wilkins."

"And you don't like that, do you, Mr. _Julian _Sark."

At the mention of his given name, Sark's playfulness disappeared in an instant and he moved into Mia's personal space, crowding her body with his. His voice lowered dangerously and with anyone else, they'd be frightened of the power Mr. Sark wielded, but this woman...she was only more amused by his show of dominance. "I don't know whom you are...but I assure you, I don't take kindly to such taunts."

"Hmmmm...I didn't realize using your name was a taunt. Now, if I'd used your actual given name...Julian _Lazeray_...well...". Her voice faded away as Julian's eyes widened before he moved to grab the woman. In a flash he was on his back, on the floor as hardened amber eyes stared down at him from above. This woman looked like a Valkyrie with her curls flowing and her eyes blazing in warning. "I'm sure your not used to anyone getting the better of you. Trust me when I tell you, I understand those feelings...however, it's not wise to anger me, Mr. Sark."

Julian's eyes narrowed, but he could feel that same aura of power surrounding the woman. He could fucking taste it and his body responded instinctively, and before he knew what he was doing, he was standing up and grabbing a handful of curls, as his lips crashed onto the perfect pink ones that had taunted his dreams for the better part of two weeks.

What he hadn't expected was the response he got to his violent kiss. Instead of the pain he'd expected, all he received was pleasure. Those sinful lips opened under his onslaught and a breathy moan erupted from them, leaving him hard as fucking granite. Soft hands were gripping his hair tightly, and nails were scratching his scalp with just the right amount of pain, causing him to groan into the kiss. The control Julian Sark was so famous for, was completely nonexistent as he pushed Mia's lush, curvy body into the bookshelf and both hands grabbed a handful of her luscious arse...which he squeezed...hard...causing another breathy moan to erupt from that perfectly formed pink mouth.

When air became a necessary requirement, Julian broke away, looking down into a very flushed, but surprisingly calm face of one Mia Wilkins. Her smirk rivaled his own, and he was again stunned by just how in control this woman was. Who the fuck was she?

"I should probably be incensed that you decided to take such liberties with me, Mr. Sark..."

"And are you?" Julian smirked back in kind, trying to win back some of his hard fought control.

"I haven't decided yet. But I really should be going...so if you'll excuse me."

Mia Wilkins had managed somehow during the kiss, to maneuver him so his back was in the opposite direction and she had free reign to leave. Walking swiftly, she moved towards the front of the store, but not before a firm hand gripped her arm and heated electric blue eyes stopped her in her tracks. "I would prefer if we could perhaps extend this conversation, Miss Wilkins."

The laugh that bubbled out of her mouth should of made him angry, but Julian found himself smirking at the genuineness of the sound. "I'm sure you would."

Pouting playfully, Sark quipped easily, "I'm sure I could make it worth your time."

The laugh now was easy and free, and Julian actually felt himself smiling in response. "I don't doubt that Mr. Sark. Am I really supposed to trust you? Do you think I'm that naive?"

Julian shrugged. "Shall we parlay, my Lady?"

"A detente? Hhmmm...it is intriguing. What do I get for my troubles?"

Sark leant forward and whispered in his most seductive voice. "I give you my word the only pain I'll inflict will be entirely consensual, and the pleasure will be beyond your wildest dreams. You're free to leave in the morning...and I won't harm a hair on your beautiful head."

Mia blushed prettily and bit her lip in contemplation. "So one night? And you'll let me go...no questions asked? I find that very hard to believe."

Sark just shrugged. "I am a man of my word, Miss Wilkins."

Mia smiled widely. "It's Hermione...Julian...Hermione Granger."

Julian's smile could've lit up the entire city of London. "Very well, Hermione Granger...I give you my word."

Suddenly, that feeling of something washed over Julian, but before he could question it, Hermione placed her hand in his.

"One night."

Julian nodded and together they walked back to his townhouse. Both talked about commonalities they shared in art and literature. Julian was clearly impressed with how well read Hermione Granger appeared to be. Classical, modern, historical...she was highly educated. She spoke six languages to his twelve, had traveled extensively and had a passion for learning. When he asked what she had been doing at the gala under an assumed name, she smirked and rolled her eyes...telling him plainly not to ask questions he wasn't prepared to answer honestly himself. He laughed loudly at her chastisement and nodded in an unspoken agreement.

When they finally reached his home, he led her into his inner sanctum and watched with appreciative eyes how she took in everything. From his serene paintings by Gerhard Richter, to some of his more garish offerings by Francis Bacon...Hermione seemed captivated by everything she saw. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled, "Your collection is impressive."

Sark smirked. "It's not the only thing I have that's impressive."

Hermione laughed again, this time playfully. "Oh, is that so?"

Moving into her space, Julian smirked wickedly. "Oh, most definitely Miss Granger. Perhaps you might allow me to show you just how impressive?"

Nodding once, Julian lowered his lips onto hers. The instant their lips touched, that feeling of electricity and power was back full force, and Julian groaned, deepening the kiss instantly and feeling his body coil in response...kissing Hermione was like nothing he'd ever experienced. The feeling, energy and essence of her mouth, her touch and her smell were doing things to his senses that completely overwhelmed him. When he lifted her up into his arms, she moaned and wrapped her long legs around his waist...

Julian didn't waste any time getting Hermione to his bedroom...once the door was closed, he had her pinned to the back of it...his body pressed tightly into hers, allowing her to feel every hard inch of him as he ground himself between her spread thighs, taking in her whimpers and mewls greedily. Clothes...they had too many of them on, a fact that frustrated Julian greatly. Moving over towards the bed, he continued to kiss, nip, pull and suck on those perfectly formed lips. When he reached the bed, his knee hit the edge and he gently, but purposefully, placed Hermione on the soft duvet underneath them.

Determined fingers were unbuttoning his shirt, and sharp nails were scorching a path down his torso...Julian hissed in pleasure as he literally felt tiny electric shocks pulsating down towards his groin. His cock was harder than he'd ever remembered it being in his life. It was throbbing with an overwhelming intensity and when Hermione's fingernail dragged along the surface of his trousers, tracing the outline of his very substantial erection...Julian groaned...fucking groaned like an fucking addled schoolboy copping his first feel from a woman.

Trying to shake his head (the other one) clear for a moment, Julian lifted his face and was met with amber eyes that were blown with lust, a swollen mouth that begged to be kissed and flushed cheeks that were stained pink...luscious curls were draped over his pillow and the smell of vanilla and jasmine wafted between them...making Julian drool with desire.

Utilizing his hands...hands that had maimed and killed so many people...Julian methodically unbuttoned Hermione's blouse and pulled it away from her torso, breathing in when he saw a thin white scar that bisected her torso, running from her shoulder, between her breasts and down to her opposite hip. He also noticed a slightly raised scar bisecting her throat just above her collar bones. She was watching him with an intensity that should've made him wary, but he was enthralled by the slightly raised flesh. Running a single finger down the length of the scars, blue eyes met amber with a questioning look. Hermione just smirked and shook her head, obviously not interested in pillow talk...or explaining how the fuck she had a thirteen inch scar bisecting down her torso. The woman was becoming more intriguing by the minute.

Renewing his exploration of her body with vigor, Julian was further intrigued when he noticed smaller faint scars littered on her body. A feeling of possessiveness washed over him. What the fuck happened to her? But it wasn't until he removed her blouse completely, and he saw the raised scaring on her right arm that a hiss was forced from his mouth. This time the scar was shaped in the formation of a word, and when he looked closer...the word mudblood stared back at him.

Amber eyes were watching his reactions closely, but for once in Julian's life he simply couldn't form words. His prodigious mind suddenly realized that Hermione...his Hermione...had been tortured at some point in her life. The how's, who's and wherefore's were secondary to the why...why had she been tortured? Lifting up her arm, his blue eyes made contact with her amber ones as he gently kissed each letter in succession, and the wariness of Hermione's gaze softened slightly, as a wry sort of smile twisted onto those succulent lips.

From that moment on, their joining was a succession of flurried, frenzied activity. Clothes were removed, lips and hands were everywhere...and when he finally thrusted home, her quim was made to measure...for him...and him alone. These thoughts were completely foreign to him, just like the feelings were...but bloody hell, she was fucking perfect, as her nails scraped along his back and blood was drawn. He groaned, growled and hissed as each electric sensation built upon itself, as he pounded into her tight, wet heat...her sounds were the fucking sexiest thing he'd ever heard in his life, and when her back arched and she screamed out his name in ecstasy...well...the electric fire that shot through his body like a current, literally pulled his own orgasm straight from him...Julian came with a shout...a fucking shout...as he collapsed into waiting arms, that cradled his body and petted him soothingly.

For a few long moments, Julian Sark literally couldn't move a muscle. He'd just had the strongest orgasm of his life...and fuck it all...but if someone were to come in at this precise moment, he sincerely doubted he'd be able to defend himself. The thought made him a bit uneasy...but not enough to move away from the blissful feeling of being in this woman's arms.

When he finally got his body under a bit more control, Julian lifted his head and smirked at the beautiful woman lying beneath him. He went to say something, but Hermione just placed her fingers over his lips and gently shook her head. Nodding once, understanding that the time for talk would come later...Julian gently kissed the goddess beneath him and their dance started all over again. For the rest of the night, he showed Hermione Granger just how skilled he was at giving pleasure. He'd lost count how many times he made her come with his hands, mouth and cock buried deep inside her. All he knew for certain was there was no fucking way one night with this woman would ever be enough.

In the morning when he awoke, it was to an empty bed. The sheets next to him were cold and the room smelled a bit sterile...the smells of sex, vanilla and jasmine from the night before were barely discernible...almost as if their rendezvous never happened. Grabbing his shirt and trousers, Julian went into his living area and kitchen, but there were no signs of life anywhere. He tried not to growl in frustration because she had told him pointedly it was only for one night. The problem was, Julian Sark was now invested. He needed to know who this woman was and what had happened to her. Picking up his cellphone he called a few contacts, gave them the name and told them they had 48 hours to find something or he'd shoot first and ask questions later.

Hermione Granger...aka Mia Wilkins...had disappeared from his townhouse over a week ago. Julian Sark's contacts were wide and varied, but even so...none of the men he'd ordered to find information had come back with anything substantial. Oh, there was a record of a Hermione Granger, born September 19,1979 near Oxford. Her parents had both been Dentists in London...they'd had a thriving practice and were firmly ensconced in the upper echelons of English Society...until the early summer of 1997. Helen and Richard Granger, had all but disappeared...left their home and dental practice...and supposedly vanished without a trace. A year later, their home and practice were sold, by their daughter...who then, also vanished without a trace in late 1998. That was four years ago, and no one had seen nor heard from Hermione Granger since that time.

Julian had told his contacts to dig deeper. He knew there was something he was missing, because people just didn't vanish into thin air, not without a good reason. There was always a record, always a trace of information. It was another week before one of his contacts had come back with something substantial. A Monica and Wendell Wilkins had shown up in Australia, shortly after the Grangers had disappeared from England. Old surveillance photos matched the description of the Dentists, yet Monica and Wendell had seemingly not only left their home and profession behind, but also their daughter. According to his sources, Monica and Wendell had died in some sort of freak accident shortly after moving to Australia. Julian now held a photo of their final resting place in a small church cemetery, just outside of Sydney.

The scenarios that were invading Julian's mind simply didn't add up. Hermione Granger was seventeen when her parents disappeared, but she obviously didn't go with them. There was no record of a Hermione Granger attending any school in London or anywhere in the British Isles after the age of eleven. She might have been privately tutored...Julian considered the possibility. But even so, she would've taken her A levels at some point in 1998...yet there was no record of any exam scores with her name on them.

So, why would her parents have left so hastily? And why didn't she go with them? How had they died? Was someone after them, or her...or both? Was it that same someone or someone's who'd carved those scars into her skin? And if so...why? All the financial records Julian had procured told a story of two wealthy Dentists who were both only children. Both coming from wealthy families...no financial abnormalities, nothing to indicate any illegal dealings at all. None of it made any sense to the assassin. Julian was even more frustrated than before.

When Irina finally called and told him to fly to Los Angeles, Julian was both relieved and irritated at having to go. Irina expected nothing less than perfection from him, and Julian had never allowed anything to distract him before, but he was definitely distracted by the thoughts running through his head. Packing a bag, he headed for the private airport he favored just outside of London, where his jet would be waiting for him. Driving through the streets of London, Julian's thoughts drifted to amber eyes and a perfectly formed mouth...wondering if he would ever see Hermione Granger again.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a little over two months since Hermione had slept with Julian Sark, and not a day had gone by that she hadn't thought about the gorgeous blonde Muggle. She had done some initial research into Lord Chesterley's associates beforehand and had discovered amongst other things, that Andrew Mason wasn't whom he appeared to be. The details were sketchy, but Hermione had determined that Andrew Mason was in fact, Julian Lazeray...but there wasn't much information beyond that.

Julian Sark...his preferred name...was a man of many aliases according to Hermione's squib contact within the British Domestic Intelligence Service or MI-5. Working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the last half year had afforded Hermione many new and interesting contacts both within the Magical community and without. Harry had been promoted to Head Auror right around the time Hermione had received her promotion to Deputy Head of the DMLE. Word was rampant around the Ministry of Magic that Hermione Granger would be Minister of Magic before the age of thirty if she so desired it. Kingsley Shacklebolt was doing a fine job and had managed to win over many of the old Pureblood families that had remained neutral during the war, and even some who hadn't, but he didn't want to remain Minister forever.

Sitting back in her favorite chair and staring out the window of her flat, Hermione sighed in exhaustion. Her last assignment as Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had been to work with Harry to retrieve smuggled dragon eggs that had been sold to Lord Chesterley on the black market by an associate of Mundungus Fletcher's. Her promotion to the DMLE had come before she could close that case however, and it wasn't until she'd been in her new position for a month, that Mundungus Fletcher had been brought into the DMLE for another case unrelated to the dragon eggs. But in exchange for being let go, he gave up his associate and Hermione was thankfully, able to close the Dragon Egg case once they'd been located at Lord Chesterley's home the night she'd met Julian Sark.

Julian Sark was another issue altogether. Hermione and Ron's relationship had died a quick death during her extended seventh year at Hogwarts. Hermione had returned to school to finish her studies and formally take her NEWTS while Harry and Ron went straight into the Auror Department's training program. Nearly five years later, both her best friends were happily married...Harry to Ginny and Ron to Susan Bones.

Hermione had dated here and there. She'd had a brief relationship with Viktor a year after she'd graduated from Hogwarts. Then a brief affair with Theodore Nott, who worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Her longest relationship had been with Adrian Pucey, which had lasted nearly a year. Adrian was thoughtful, romantic and boring as Quidditch...which was fitting since it was all he'd wanted to talk about. Hermione had political aspirations and while Adrian had been helpful in teaching her about certain Pureblood customs, there wasn't that fire that made her pant and shiver with unmitigated sexual need.

When Hermione had seen Julian Sark at Lord Chesterley's home, she was taken aback at how gorgeous he was...but he gave off an air that said he knew exactly how attractive he was and Hermione wasn't interested in feeding a man's ego...no matter how delicious he appeared to be. When she saw him again in the bookstore, the attraction was palpable and she could taste his aura on her tongue...which was strange since he was a Muggle.

She'd taken a calculated risk going to his home...but the sex had been otherworldly and it was obvious the man knew what he was doing. He was by far, the most well-endowed lover she'd ever been with and he was highly skilled in giving pleasure. The number and intensity of the orgasms she'd had that night were without parallel but she'd left before he'd awoken as a matter of self-preservation. Hermione had no doubt if she'd stayed, she might've compromised herself in more ways than one...and that thought simply terrified her.

So here she was, left alone with her thoughts about the blonde Muggle and wondering if he thought about her as much as she had about him over the last two months. Did he wonder where she'd run off to that morning? Was he upset to find his bed empty when he awoke, or relieved? Did the sex they'd shared rock his world as much as it had hers? These questions and more ran through Hermione's prodigious mind like a insidious virus. She'd stopped herself on several occasions from going back to the same bookstore in the hopes of running into Julian Sark again.

Closing her eyes, Hermione sighed longingly...thinking about Julian Sark and how much she wished to see him again...kiss his lips and feel his thick tumescence inside her. Her body ached for his and the frustration she was feeling was making her feel both needy and irritable in equal measure. Hermione had never felt sexually frustrated before and she didn't like the feeling at all.

It had taken another two months before Hermione was given a proper distraction from her licentious thoughts regarding a certain blonde Muggle. The current Head of the DMLE, Gawain Robards wanted Hermione to attend a magical conference of sorts with other Department Deputy Heads throughout Magical Europe. The Department of International Magical Cooperation was sending it's Deputy Head, ironically enough was Theodore Nott, who still wasn't married nor seeing anyone seriously despite being a Pureblood Heir to a veritable fortune. Theo had sent her a note saying he was looking forward to spending the week with Hermione in Paris, where the conference was to be held at the Rue de Magique in the French Ministry's headquarters. Hermione had traveled to Wizarding Paris several times as the Head of the DRCMC, and she was looking forward to spending a few free evenings strolling though Magical and Muggle Paris, taking in the sites. The thought of attending with Theo was not entirely unwelcome and could provide Hermione with a much needed distraction.

The first few days of the conference were hectic, most of the days were filled with work and the evenings were too...by the fourth day Hermione finally got an evening to herself and decided to go to a Muggle Parisian dinner club she'd heard good things about. Dressing up in a stunning little black Balmain dress that she had bought just for the occasion (and glamouring over her scars) Hermione matched it with a stunning pair of Manolo Blahnik stiletto's that added another three inches to her petite frame. Her hair was left down in the back in voluminous curly waves that extended to her mid back while the front of her hair was pulled back away from her face and her make-up was dramatic with dark smokey eyes and ruby red lips. Hermione transfigured her trusty beaded bag into a small black clutch that held her wand, money and Muggle identification.

Grabbing the black sheer wrap from her bed, Hermione paused when she heard a knock at her door. Frowning in confusion, she was surprised when she opened the door and saw Theodore Nott standing in the doorway dressed impeccably in a three piece Italian Muggle suit with a dark blue shirt that brought out his eyes. His eyes widened in appreciation, before they darkened lustfully as he gazed at her.

"Salazar Granger, you look beautiful." Theo bowed and took Hermione's hand, kissing her knuckles softly.

Shaking her head a bit, Hermione smiled at the sincere compliment. "Did we have a date I wasn't aware of Theo?"

Theo shrugged in that elegant way of his. "Not exactly, I was hoping to persuade you to join me for dinner this evening."

"Well, I have dinner reservations at Chez Castelle this evening...but you are more than welcome to join me. I have an old acquaintance who was friends with my parents and is a member. He offered me his table for the evening."

Theo nodded slowly. "A Muggle dinner club?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed briefly but she nodded in return. "Is that a problem?"

Theo grinned. "Not at all. Besides, I will have the most beautiful woman on my arm for the evening. I only asked because I wasn't sure if I was dressed appropriately."

Relaxing a bit, Hermione bit her lip giving Theo a very thorough once over. "I think you look very handsome Theodore Nott."

"Well, I do have some Muggle money and Gringotts provided me with a Muggle type credit card..."

"That is very thoughtful of you Theo, but money doesn't exchange hands in places such as these. The members pay an annual fee, plus a one time membership initiation of sorts. It is considered gauche to exchange money in establishments such as these."

Theo nodded, seemingly impressed. "We don't have anything like that in the Wizarding World."

Hermione thought about that for a moment. "Really? I'm surprised, truly. I would've thought the Upper Pureblood Society would have some kind of place to keep the riff-raff out."

Theo's gaze darkened, but he smiled when he realized Hermione was teasing him. "Minx." He chuckled. "Perhaps we should get a move on then. I would hate to keep a beautiful woman waiting for her dinner."

Taking the proffered arm, Hermione closed her hotel room door and allowed Theo to lead her to the elevator. "The club is only a few blocks from here, we can take a cab if you like?"

"We can't apparate I'm assuming?" Theo asked.

"No, I don't know the surrounding area well enough, so it's either walking or taking a cab."

Theo offered his arm. "Cab it is then."

The two walked out of the Rue de Magique along Place Cachee and out to the 7th arrondissement Muggle side. From there the cab ride was a short drive, and when they'd arrived, the simple red facing of the building belied it's posh interior with low lighting and opulent furnishings. Walking down into the main eating area, Theo was impressed with how elegant everything seemed to be. All the diners were dressed impeccably, and there was a small stage on the far end of the dining area for entertainment...currently a pianist was playing strains of soft, flowing music and the bar area on the far left wall had thousands of bottles of wine stacked from floor to the ceiling.

Hermione watched Theo's expression closely, seeing the appreciation in his blue eyes. "So, what do you think?"

"It's impressive. The ambience is quite appealing...I can see why you would want to come dine here. I have to admit, it's giving me ideas."

Hermione smiled genuinely. "Thinking about opening one up at home?"

Theo shrugged. "Perhaps."

The Maitre D' brought them to their table, where Theo was quick to pull out Hermione's chair for her. Nodding to the man, Theo then sat down across from his dining companion while he was handed the wine list by the Muggle host.

"We have some excellent vintages and Monsieur Phillips has several of his own collection of wines that we are happy to provide for you this evening."

Both Theo and Hermione nodded. "What would you recommend Hermione?" Theo asked softly, not familiar with most of the Muggle wine labels.

"Petrus 82 would be lovely." Hermione smiled at Theo. "It was my parent's favorite."

The Maitre D' smiled widely at the young woman. "That is an excellent choice Madame, I will let your server know to bring that to your table immediately.

"Merci." Hermione smiled, as the menus were given to each of them to look through.

Once the gentleman had left, Theo considered the witch before him. "Have your parent's been here before?"

Hermione smiled wistfully. "A few times with their friends. Nigel Phillips and his wife Miranda were very good friends of my mum and dad."

"Are they not anymore?"

Hermione's face took on a haunted quality as she wondered how much to share with Theo. Figuring she had no reason to lie, she decided honestly was probably the best policy. "Before Harry, Ron and I disappeared...I obliviated my mum and dad and relocated them. I didn't want them to be tortured or killed...I had hoped to give them back their memories, but they died before I got the chance."

Theo's face paled. "Merlin, I'm so sorry Hermione."

Hermione nodded. "I know Theo. I miss them everyday and I wish more than anything that things had turned out differently. The guilt I feel somedays...well, it's hard to explain."

"How did they die?"

"Car accident. At least that was the official report. But I'll never really know for sure."

Bowing his head in shame, Theo then shook his head in anger. His father was a Death Eater, and had been given a life sentence after the war. Thoros had lasted two years in Azkaban before he'd died, and Theo wasn't sad to see his father leave this life...he hated the man and everything he stood for.

"I wish I could do something to make it better for you Hermione. You, more than anyone I know, deserve happiness after everything you've been through."

Smiling tremulously, Hermione reached for Theo's hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "Thank you Theo, that means so much to me."

Their server returned with the preferred wine and opened the bottle to allow it to sufficiently breathe. Bottled water was also served and food ordered from the Chef's tasting menu...a sumptuous seven course meal that offered delicacies such as escargot de Bourgogne, goose liver pate, and Hermione's favorite...Poulet Roti a l'Orange et aux Olives Noires.

Hermione had watched Theo closely as he sampled each course and the wine that was served with the meal and could see that the Pureblood aristocrat was suitably impressed.

Before the fromage course was served, Hermione excused herself to attend the ladies room to freshen up a bit. Walking up the staircase and into the main foyer, she'd failed to notice a set of electric blue eyes that were following her every move throughout the main level and into the ladies room.

After she'd finished, Hermione walked out into the connecting hallway when a strong arm grabbed her and pulled her into an empty office. She was about to wandlessly stun whomever had grabbed her when a familiar scent of cologne hit her nostrils and her eyes widened when she realized just whom had accosted her.

Electric blue eyes were staring heatedly into her own as that wicked smirk made an appearance on the face of Julian Sark.

"Hello love." Julian purred dangerously. "I must say I'm surprised to see you here."

Hermione swallowed, and tried to get her body's traitorous reactions under control. "Hello Julian."

Julian's smirk deepened. "Did you miss me?" The words came out a bit sarcastically, letting Hermione know that Julian had indeed been bothered with how she'd left that morning.

Sighing in resignation, Hermione shook her head clear. "I'm sorry Julian, but I'm here with someone and now is not a good time to have this conversation."

The low growl that rumbled through Julian's chest at the thought of his Hermione on a date with another man didn't sit well with him at all.

"And just who is this man?" Julian asked much calmer than he felt at that precise moment. "Do you make it a habit to seduce men and then leave them without a proper explanation?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "As I recall...per our agreement...it was for one night, and one night only Julian Lazeray. I don't need to justify myself to you."

Julian grinned at the show of dominance from his Hermione. "You are correct, perhaps I had hoped after what we'd shared that night that you might have wished to stay...forgive me if I'd assumed incorrectly."

Shaking her head in exasperation, Hermione raised her hand and cupped Julian's cheek and surprisingly, he allowed the touch, tilting his head submissively into the gesture. "It's not that I didn't want to stay...I didn't know how to. I can't explain right now, and I'm not even sure I should. But I would be lying if I didn't admit that I've found myself thinking quite often of that night."

Julian's smirk softened. "As have I. This man you are with, is it serious?"

Hermione shook her head in the negative. "No, we are friends and work colleagues...We did have a brief liaison some years ago and I think he would welcome a more formal relationship...but I'm not sure that is something I would want with him."

"Might I ask why?"

"It's complicated, but we went to boarding school together and there was a lot of bad history there."

Julian stated in a way that brokered no room for an argument. "Meet me back here tomorrow evening at seven."

Hermione hesitated briefly but then nodded once. "I promise, I'll be here tomorrow...but I really must leave Julian. My date will be wondering what happened to me."

Taking a step back Julian bowed, his eyes never leaving hers. "If you don't come tomorrow my lovely Hermione, I will tear Paris down to find you."

Hermione shivered at the words and moved over to Julian, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When she moved back and caught his gaze, it was darkened with desire. "Tomorrow." Hermione said gently, moving back towards the main dining area and to her date.

When she returned to the table, Theo was watching her closely. "Are you alright Hermione?"

"Yes Theo, I just ran into an acquaintance and we chatted for a few moments."

Theo smiled and seemed to be relieved as Hermione watched the tension fall from his shoulders. "How long have you known this person?"

"Not too long, but we did make plans to have dinner tomorrow while we are both here in Paris."

Theo's face fell a bit, but he nodded in understanding. "Well, that's good I suppose."

"Enough about that Theo, tell me what your thoughts are now that we've dined here and what would you do differently if this was at home?"

Theo's eyes brightened and they spent the rest of their meal discussing different options for a Wizarding dining club in Diagon Alley.

After dinner, the pair returned to the Rue de Magique and Theo walked Hermione to her suite, gently placing a kiss on her knuckles. "I had a lovely time tonight Hermione. I wanted to ask if you would be open to seeing me again when we return to London?"

Hermione sighed softly and then smiled. "Theo, I just started my new position in the DMLE and I don't know how much free time I'm going to have for a while. But I would be happy to have lunch with you if that is alright?"

Theo nodded and looked a bit forelorn. "Is there someone else?"

"No...I just don't want to jump into a relationship at this point when I don't have the time to give it the attention it deserves. But if you're alright with being friends for now...I'd more than welcome that. I'd like to get to know you better."

"I can do that." Theo said firmly.

"Good. Thank you for a lovely time tonight Theo."

"No, thank you Hermione for inviting me to go with you. It was a spectacular evening."

Placing a gentle kiss on Theo's cheek, Hermione smiled genuinely at the wizard before she let herself into her suite. Once the door was closed, Hermione silenced and warded the room, removing her clothes and heading for the ensuite to take a long hot bubble bath and think about how she was going to handle her date with Julian Sark come tomorrow night.


	3. Chapter 3

The next evening came much quicker than Hermione was prepared for. The last day of the conference was informal and she spent most of her time making contacts within various magical communities within different ministries. Everyone seemed to want to meet the Golden Girl of the Golden Trio and as much as Hermione detested the attention that her fame brought her from the war, she'd realized long ago that it helped her push her agenda's forward within Magical Britain and now she was having some influence with other ministries. If she ever decided to run for Minister of Magic, these contacts could only serve to help her.

When she'd returned to her suite, she picked out a simple but daring red cocktail dress that Ginny had all but forced her to buy when they'd gone shopping at Harrods a few months prior. It was corseted with thin shoulder straps and a skirt that went down to just above the knee. The gold stilettos that she'd found to go with the dress were Christian Louboutins and the red sole matched the dress perfectly.

Hermione pulled her hair into a French twist and her makeup was a bit more subdued than the night before. Transfiguring her beaded bag to match the dress, Hermione grabbed a red and gold shawl that she'd brought with her and made her way back to the dining club from the previous night.

When she got there, the Maitre D' from the previous evening was there to greet her by the door, but when Hermione entered, the entire club was empty except for a single table that was placed in the center of the bottom floor. Candles lit up the room, and a string quartet was playing music on the stage. The ambiance was beyond romantic and Hermione was stunned momentarily until she noticed Julian standing near the bar, his electric blue gaze fixated upon her as she walked down the stairs.

When she'd reached the bottom steps, Julian made his way over oozing confidence and that raw sex appeal that had every part of Hermione's body coiling in anticipation. She had wondered if she'd imagined the fact that she could taste his aura viscerally, but being here in the same room alone with him, verified that indeed she had. Everything about the man called to her on a primal level and she felt herself shiver as Julian's gaze took on a predatory quality as he moved into her personal space, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his lips in a gentle kiss of greeting.

"You look exquisite Hermione."

Smiling shakily, Hermione nodded. "You look handsome as well, Julian." And fuck if he didn't look simply scrumptious in his dark grey pinstriped Armani suit, blue shirt and grey tie. His cologne was making Hermione salivate and she couldn't help but want to rip his clothes off and have her way with him right there in the restaurant.

The smirk on Julian's face deepened almost as if he could read her thoughts, which were entirely scandalous and completely inappropriate. He took her arm and brought her to the table, holding her chair out for her and kissing her ever so softly on her shoulder as she sat down before he moved to his own seat and gestured for the waiter to come over.

The wine was poured immediately, and Hermione gasped at the familiar bottle of wine. "You are familiar with this wine?" Julian gestured to the wine bottle and Hermione nodded.

"It was my parent's favorite. I ordered a bottle last night."

Julian's eyes shot up in shock and then he smiled genuinely. "What did you enjoy most about the wine? Have you had it before?"

Hermione nodded. "A few times. The 1982 was a particularly good year, although the 1983 wasn't far behind. I appreciate the different notes of truffle, cherry, tobacco and plums and earth...it's a full-bodied wine that is quite sweet and fresh for how complex it is."

Julian's eyebrows shot up into his hairline in appreciation and a bit of shock at how knowledgeable his Hermione seemed to be regarding the wine.

"That's extraordinary," Julian offered, "you have quite a talent it would seem."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure about that, but I know what I like."

"Is that so?" Julian challenged. "And what else do you like?"

"I enjoy reading literature of all kinds really. I'm a bit of a bibliophile according to my friends. I love music of all kinds, and was formally taught in voice and dance from the age of four. I appreciate the arts in all its forms...music, theatre, art...though I have a soft spot for the opera as my parents would take me every year to the Royal Opera House. I'd thought at one time I'd like to sing opera professionally, but it didn't end up working out."

Julian looked intrigued. "And why was that? I hope I don't mean to offend you, but does it have anything to do with the scars I saw from before?"

Hermione's body stiffened immediately and Julian sighed, reaching for her hand and kissing it. "Please don't be offended Hermione...I think you know that your scars mean little to me...although I did notice last night that they weren't visible and tonight they are. Either you have some complex make-up to conceal them or perhaps there is something I'm missing here."

Hermione sighed in exasperation, not realizing that Julian would've noticed that fact. "It's complicated Julian and not something I'm at liberty to share with you."

Julian sat back and smirked. "I see...so you aren't able to share with me that when you were seventeen your parents disappeared from their home and dental practice only to show up in Australia a short time later under the assumed names of Monica and Wendell Wilkins. Or how you disappeared from all British school records at the age of eleven, but you are clearly educated. Or perhaps that once you sold your parents dental practice and home in 1998, there's no record of your living anywhere in Great Britain."

Hermione's eyes widened at Julian's words and she felt her hands clench in anger. "You had me investigated obviously. What is it you want from me?" Hermione bit out sharply.

Julian sighed and took a sip of his wine. "You left that morning and I was determined to find you. Imagine my surprise when despite my wide and various contacts, I couldn't do so. It took me months and I called in several favors, but I finally found what I was looking for."

"And what was that?" Hermione asked warily.

"Are you familiar with Occam's razor?"

"Yes, the Law of Parsimony which states that when presented with competing hypotheses to solve a problem, one should select the solution with the fewest assumptions."

Julian nodded and grinned in open admiration. "You see, there were several things about you that didn't add up. Your parents being the first one...then there was the fact that I can feel your aura as a living, tangible, breathing essence." Hermione's eyes widened imperceptibly, but Julian noticed. "Your scars, and the fact that you can hide them at will. You have also ceased to exist in a practical sense since the age of eleven...so I did some digging and found that there's a very small subset of the British population that have had children disappear from school records around the same age...you're not the only one. So it left me with very few logical choices...but when I removed the logic, the possibility I was faced with seemed too fantastical to be based in reality."

Hermione took a fortifying sip of her wine as she gathered her thoughts. "And what conclusion did you reach?"

Julian's electric blue eyes danced with merriment. "Magic."

Hermione's shoulders dropped and the tension she didn't realize she'd been holding released instantly.

"Magic?" Hermione tried to sound nonchalant.

"Mmmhmm." Julian murmured. "I'd imagine you have the ability to glamour your scars at will, hence why I didn't see them last night but I can tonight. The scars you have...something happened back in 1997 which caused you to send your parents away...possibly for their own safety but it didn't work, at least not in the way you'd intended. You were captured and tortured at some point. The scars you have are not made with any mundane weapon...they are too precise and the one on your arm looks fairly recent, although I'd imagine it happened some years ago. The only thing that makes sense if you take away all the other plausible explanations is Magic."

Hermione was stunned that this man was that supremely intelligent that he'd been able to deduce correctly based on the available data. It was both shocking and highly arousing.

"And if I told you that your hypotheses is correct?"

Julian sat back and steepled his hands in contemplation. "I had assumed it most likely was. The first question I'd ask is who gave you those scars and is that person still alive?"

Hermione's face paled a bit. "Why would you care?"

Julian's face became impassive but his eyes blazed with unrestrained fury. "Because I would need to know whom I would have to exact revenge upon."

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "That is not up to you Julian Lazeray."

Leaning forward, Julian pinned Hermione with his eyes that were simply blazing. "And I would disagree wholeheartedly. Tell me Hermione."

Sighing softly, Hermione took another sip of her wine. "The woman who gave me the scar on my arm and throat is dead. Killed in battle in 1998. The man who gave me the scar on my chest is locked away in a prison that is inaccessible to those who aren't like me."

Julian nodded. "Was there some kind of magical war in the year 1997?"

"Yes, to a certain extent. It bled out into what we call the Muggle, or Mundane world. The collapse of the Milennium Bridge..."

"In 1996?" Julian finished.

"Yes."

"Which side were you on?" Julian wanted to know.

Hermione bristled. "The winning side."

Julian chuckled. "Yes, I'd figured that for myself Hermione."

Hermione smiled a bit at Julian's joke. "It's complicated Julian and I'm not exactly at liberty to share any of this with someone whose not magical. The simple version was there was a war and one side was made up of Pureblood zealots who were much like Hitler in his quest for power. Then there was the other side that had children like me, born with no magical parents and were looked down upon for our heritage."

"Mudbloods." Julian guessed correctly causing Hermione to nod.

"My best friend was, for lack of a better word, prophesied to be the one to defeat the leader of the zealots...which he did. I went on the run with him in 1997 as we had a task that was thrust upon us. We completed the task but during that time we were captured and taken prisoner and I was the one chosen to extract information from. I never broke and we escaped before they could kill us."

"And your parents?"

"I sent them away to protect them...but in the end it didn't matter as they died."

Julian nodded. He was very impressed with Hermione's story and as fantastical as it sounded, he believed every word she spoke. He'd had enough experience with discerning truth from lies and if he hadn't seen the scars for himself, he might've questioned the veracity of her story. But it fit with what he'd learned of her past.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that Hermione." Julian offered sincerely.

"I'm alive and despite everything, things worked out for the betterment of our society. Things aren't perfect, but we're getting there."

"And what do you do for work?"

Hermione smiled impishly. "I work in law enforcement. A Deputy Director of sorts. And what do you do for work Julian Lazeray?"

Julian smirked at the change of subject, but figured he owed Hermione a reasonable explanation considering she'd been honest with him.

"I work in espionage. Currently I'm tasked within a Russian organization, but the global outreach is considerable."

"And what is your purpose?"

Julian's smirk deepened. "I was orphaned at the age of nine and was sent to a boys home outside of Galway where I was raised by Catholic nuns. When I turned seventeen my A level test scores put me on the radar of several government organizations, one of which recruited me at the age of eighteen. I've been working for them for the last six years."

Hermione nodded. "So you're British Intelligence?"

Julian nodded. "In a manner of speaking."

"Why Russia?"

Julian took a sip of his wine as he pondered his response. After a few minutes he spoke softly, with more emotion that Hermione believed him capable of. "My Father is Andrian Lazeray, a Russian Diplomat within the government...he is also the last direct patrilineal descendent of the Romanov family."

Hermione sat back stunned. "How is that possible?"

"My Great Grandfather was Micheal Alexandrovich Romanov, the younger brother of Nicholas II. He was killed but his mistress gave birth to my Grandfather George, who later sired my father and then myself."

"So you're the last of the Romanov line?"

Julian nodded. "I am."

Hermione contemplated what Julian was telling her. "How were you able to acquire this entire restaurant for the night?"

Julian smiled at the change of subject. "I own the dining club Hermione."

Looking completely shocked, all Hermione could spit out was a soft, 'Oh' as she stared into Julian's eyes...seeing no deceit there.

"Oh, indeed." Julian grinned.

"What do you want from me Julian? Why did you ask me to come here tonight?"

"I thought that was obvious Hermione."

Shaking her head, Hermione just looked into Julian's eyes warily. "Not exactly."

"What is it you think I want?"

"I'd rather not speculate nor play games, Julian. So please, let's forget the obfuscation and just be honest."

Smiling widely, Julian nodded. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about our night together Hermione, and I want more. The question is, what do you want?"

"Define more."

Julian chuckled. "I want you in my bed and in my life."

"A relationship?"

Julian tilted his head in agreement. "If you like."

Hermione nodded. "And if I say 'no'?"

Julian's eyes darkened perceptively. "We both know that you don't wish to say 'no' and if I had to hazard a guess as to the why...the only thing holding you back is the fact that I'm a...what did you call it...a Muggle?"

Hermione sighed in resignation realizing that Julian was right...she was holding back because he was a Muggle...and it made her feel no better than the bigots that she'd fought against in the war. While Julian didn't have magic, he was highly perceptive and intelligent, not to mention gorgeous and oozed a raw sexual power that made her knickers wet.

"I'm not saying yes or no...I just don't know how to do this."

Julian shrugged, completely non-plussed. "I suggest we start with me taking you to my flat above this club where I can ravish you properly. I'm sure the rest will come with time."

Hermione blushed deeply as she bit her lip in contemplation. "Do I have a choice in this regard?"

"Of course love. I can ravish you here on this table or upstairs...I'm not picky. I find I'm actually fond of the idea of having you spread out before me here at the table while I taste you properly."

Hermione heart rate shot up as her cheeks inflamed with the images Julian was giving her. Looking around, she realized they were completely alone. "I thought you were going to feed me dinner?"

This caused Julian to laugh out loud as he grinned widely. "Dinner is upstairs. As is my bed, shower and whatever else you might be interested in."

Hermione nodded and watched as Julian stood, offering her his hand, which she took without hesitation. "I have to be back in England by Sunday evening."

Julian's smile was playful as he led Hermione towards the elevator and up to his flat. "Well, that gives us two days to become more thoroughly acquainted. I hope you don't mind, but I plan on spending all of that time buried between your luscious thighs in one form or another."

Hermione giggled softly. "You're simply incorrigible."

"You won't be thinking that when you're screaming my name in pleasure love."


	4. Chapter 4

When they'd reached Julian's flat above the dining club, Hermione was just as impressed with his decor as she'd been when she'd seen his flat in London. There were expensive furnishings, paintings by various artists that were mostly contemporary and modern...but some of the paintings were very provocative and downright scandalous and had her blushing in both embarrassment and arousal. Julian watched her reactions closely and that infuriating smirk never quite left his face.

When they'd reached his bedroom, there was indeed a lovely meal set out for them and Hermione was ravenous...just not for food at the moment. Something must've given away what she was thinking because the next thing she knew, Julian had swept her up into his arms and deposited her onto his rather large king-sized bed before kissing her breathless.

The feeling was back...that electric feeling of sex, lust and need and without thinking, Hermione waved her hand, causing both their clothes to vanish in an instant. The look of shocked arousal on Julian's face was so worth it however, and before she had a chance to catch her breath, her sexy blonde lover pushed her legs apart and sheathed himself inside her...causing her back to arch and her mouth to loudly moan his name in pleasure. Julian hissed 'fuck' as his hips started pumping in and out of her very wet and willing quim. Lips met in frenzied need as Hermione raked her nails along Julian's back, causing his pace to quicken with brutal intensity.

Their first coupling didn't last long at all...and when they'd both reached their peaks...it was explosive and simultaneous. Hermione's magic surged and Julian shouted out her name in wonder as his own orgasm was forcibly ripped from him like liquid fire running throughout his body. It was fucking glorious and as his body collapsed into Hermione's waiting arms, he bit into her shoulder playfully. She was absolute perfection.

Hermione was currently running her hands through blonde locks that were curled at the back of Julian's head. She had wondered during the past four months if she'd imagined how explosive and earth-shattering the sex had been with the man currently cocooned within her embrace. But after what had just transpired, Hermione couldn't lie to herself anymore. The connection between her and Julian was a living, breathing thing. Her whole body felt alive and aware of him...and when he was inside her...it was the closest to complete as she'd ever felt in her entire life. How strange that a Muggle would be the one to make her feel this way...

Julian lifted his head and his blue eyes locked with the amber ones of the woman holding him like a vise. His smirk was playful before he locked his lips with Hermione's and kissed her like a man starved of contact. Her response was immediate...and soon he lost himself to the kiss, feeling his body already hardening at the thought of having this woman again.

When the kiss broke, Julian lifted himself up slightly with his arms before letting his eyes roam down Hermione's body...the scars on her body were visible and he couldn't help but lift an eyebrow as he gently traced the one that bisected her torso.

"How old were you when you got this?"

"Sixteen." Hermione said without emotion.

Julian's eyebrows raised in surprise as he gently kissed along the scar from shoulder to hip. "I would very much like to hear the story someday...when you're ready to share it with me."

"That implies a level of trust Julian...and perhaps a more involved relationship. Are you really sure that's something you can commit to under the circumstances?"

Julian's eyes narrowed a bit, but he nodded. "I wouldn't have pursued this if it was something I couldn't offer you Hermione. My work is complicated, but I'm not willing to allow it to interfere in this...I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and it's become a distraction."

Hermione sat up clearly upset. "So, this is just a means to quell that distraction?"

Julian shook his head in exasperation. "You misunderstand me. Yes, I've been distracted by thoughts of you...and normally in the past such distractions would be easy to dismiss. I'd realized that morning after I awoke to find you gone, that I was invested. Something happened that night between us that altered my priorities...and I find myself undeterred by that fact. On the contrary, I am most willing to see where this goes."

Hermione sighed softly and allowed Julian to readjust them on the bed, the blonde moving Hermione over so she was straddling his lap all the while touching her softly with his hands...watching as the beautiful witch shivered with desire at his touch. When he moved forward and took her mouth with his and instantly deepened the kiss, he felt Hermione sigh in pleasure against him...her body moulding to his as her hands grasped the back of his head tightly.

Julian's hands grabbed Hermione's arse and lifted her over his hardened shaft before slowly pushing himself into her warm and willing body. Hermione threw her head back, breaking the kiss on a loud moan as she felt Julian's thick cock stretch her quim to its very limits. Her fingernails clawed into Julian's shoulders while he hissed in pained pleasure, recapturing her lips as he thrust into her from below.

"Fuck love, you feel exquisite." Julian murmured when he broke away from the kiss.

Hermione mewled and whimpered at the feel of Julian inside her. He was simply perfect and she couldn't remember ever feeling so utterly overwhelmed during sex...but he ignited all her senses and made everything feel so much...more...

"Julian..." Hermione whispered pleadingly.

"That's it love. Take what you want...ride me hard...fuck, you feel perfect...so perfect..."

Hermione's whimpers turned into lusty moans as she pushed herself up and down on Julian's cock, while his hand gripped her hips and arse...leaving bruises in their wake.

"Touch yourself love...I want to see and feel you gush all over me when you come."

Hermione didn't hesitate and reached down, gathering copious amounts of her own arousal mixed with Julian's as she rubbed her clit perfectly, tossing her head back and moaning in unrestrained need.

Julian's pace was brutal as his hips bucked up hard and fast into Hermione's drenched quim, causing him to groan deeply at how utterly perfect his little witch felt, balls deep inside her body. When Hermione clawed her left hand into his shoulder as she came hard, her inner muscles clamped around his cock like a fucking vice causing Julian to thrust up one final time, biting into Hermione's shoulder as he came violently, his seed shooting into the depths of Hermione's core and squirting down onto the sheets below them.

"Fuck...so good..." Julian gasped in bliss. "So fucking good..."


	5. Chapter 5

For the next day and a half, the two lovers spent every moment learning each other's body's. Julian didn't hesitate to push Hermione's boundaries and was pleasantly surprised to find she had an insatiable curiosity that begged to be quenched. Her love of knowledge appeared to extend to the bedroom, and Julian was very pleased to be the one to educate his lovely witch on just how pleasurable pain could be.

His little minx apparently loved to suck cock. It was a very pleasant surprise that her penchant for magic had some interesting side benefits when it came to sex. The first time she'd deep throated him, caused Julian to shoot his load down her throat as he'd actually screamed out his release. His little witch made him scream in pleasure and fuck, but that had never happened before. No woman had ever been able to take all of him down...but Hermione had looked at him with her big amber eyes and smirked as she pulled his orgasm from him...and he'd fucking loved every minute of it.

Tying her to the bed and licking her until she'd begged for release had been a fun experiment. For over an hour he'd worked Hermione up into a whining, needy ball of arousal and she'd actually snarled and threatened to hex his man bits off if he didn't make her come after she'd realized what he was doing. So Julian had...six times within twenty minutes and his little vixen had finally passed out from the sheer force of her pleasure. When she'd come to a while later, he was grinning down at her shocked face with a look of utter smugness, which had caused her to giggle in pure joy. Julian decided right then and there, that he couldn't live without that sound in his life...nor the woman whom it had come from. He was completely besotted and surprisingly alright with that realization.

In the wee hours of Sunday Morning, Julian had introduced Hermione into the pleasures of anal play. He had spent some time using his fingers and warm lubrication, spreading her open and watching her as she begged and moaned out his name as her pussy squirted it's release over and over again. When he'd rolled her over and slowly worked his cock inside her arse, the look of pain on her face was heady, as was the pleasured moans that erupted from her perfect mouth once he was finally seated fully in her back hole. She was so tight...so wet and so perfect...she'd begged him to move and to fuck her...and he had...and when her magic surged at the moment of her release...his body bowed hard as his orgasm ripped through him like a fucking freight train...white, hot, blinding...it was a fucking epiphany. Julian kissed Hermione like she was his most precious jewel, his most treasured gift...and told her that she was his and he was hers...Julian Lazeray had no intentions of ever letting this woman go.

When they were spooned together in Julian's large claw foot tub, and the water was reheated with a single wave of Hermione's hand, Julian decided it was time to speak his peace and put his cards on the proverbial table.

"I want you in my life, Hermione." Julian said softly into Hermione's ear as he kissed her neck gently and lovingly.

Laying her head back into the crook of Julian's shoulder, Hermione's hands ran down the assassin's legs in tender, sweeping motions. Her small sigh was enough to let Julian know that she still had some reservations about how this was going to work between them. Before she could speak, Julian decided to cut to the chase. "Is it because I'm a Muggle? Is that why you're reluctant or is it because of what I do for a living?"

Amber eyes met his blue one's, as Hermione gazed back over her shoulder. "A bit of both I suppose, although probably moreso the latter than the former. I'm in law enforcement Julian, while it may only be magical I do have contacts within MI-5. I'm a War Heroine in my world...I'm the most famous Muggleborn witch in the Wizarding World. I'm in line to be the next Minister of Magic if I so desire it. Being with you, as much as I desperately want it...is fraught with problems because of what you do and who you are."

Julian nodded. "I understand."

Hermione turned around and faced Julian directly. "Do you really? Because what we have here is amazing...but I don't know how we try and navigate a proper relationship, do you?"

Julian chuckled as he shrugged. "I've never been in a proper relationship as such, so my expertise in that arena is nil...and you're right, it's not going to be easy. But I don't want us to be fuck buddies and as sure as I'm sitting here, I don't want you to share this with anyone else. Would you be alright if I fucked some other woman at this point?"

Hermione bristled and Julian smirked knowingly. "No, you're right, I wouldn't like it at all. I'd probably hex the woman...or worse, and that doesn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy."

Julian barked out a laugh. "Well, there we have it." His lips moved onto hers as he kissed Hermione breathless. "Being inside you is pure unadulterated perfection and I can't imagine not ever having you again."

"Nor can I, Julian. My whole body is sore and spent, yet I find myself getting wet just thinking about having you inside me again. I just can't get enough of you."

Julian smirked as he lifted Hermione over his cock and positioned her directly over him as he entered her slowly. Her whimpers of pained pleasure caused his gut to clench in need. Her muscles squeezed him once he was fully seated inside her. "Fuck baby...you are so exquisite. I could spend the rest of my life buried between your delectable thighs...fucking your perfect quim...buggering your hot, tight little arse...it's just too, too good..." Julian groaned as Hermione's body shivered at the profane words...

She kissed him voraciously. "Love it when you talk dirty to me...love it when you fuck me..." Hermione started to push herself up and down on Julian's cock...moaning and gasping with each push and pull...

Julian could feel Hermione's core muscles starting to quiver, signaling her orgasm was fast approaching. At the exact moment before she came, her grabbed her lips and kissed her quickly, then said harshly, "Be mine...fuck love, we will figure it out...just be mine...always..."

Hermione's head flew back as her magic surged, screaming, "Yes, yes, yes!"

The magic swirled and Julian smirked as his own orgasm and Hermione's magic washed over him like a tidal wave. His groan of "fuck yes..." was silenced when Hermione's mouth clamped onto his as she kissed him with abandon. When the tsunami faded, her amber eyes caught and held his blue one's with a look Julian could only describe as indulgent.

"You're a manipulative prat." Hermione shook her head in exasperation.

"I'm a man who knows what he wants."

"You do realize what just happened, do you not?"

Julian winked impishly. "Of course, my beautiful love. I'd imagine it's not permanent, but it will be someday...I have every intention of making it permanent Hermione."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I knew it the day you left me...I'm in love with you...and I will always be in love with you."

Hermione's breath hitched at the spoken declaration, seeing nothing but sincerity radiating from Julian's eyes. "And if I'm not ready to say the words back?"

Julian shrugged, entirely non-plussed. "You will...when you're ready...until then, I fully intend to make love to you and worship every delectable inch of you I can, whenever I can...until you understand that we are meant to be for each other, Hermione...I know you sense it...you're just too stubborn to admit it yet."

"You make it seem like a fait accompli."

Julian smirked in that oh, so wicked way of his and said confidently, "Isn't it?"


End file.
